Silence
by Serrye
Summary: Heero POV. Heero is quietly contemplating why his fellow pilots, and people in general, are so uncomfortable with silence. A sudden fascination with a fellow silent pilot is also revealed.


Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, I just love writing about them. So read and enjoy! ^_^

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People seem to dislike silence. It makes them uncomfortable, although I am unsure as to why. People seem to fidget and squirm, as if they are unable to contain themselves. They have an incessant need to make noise, to move, to chatter mindlessly about trivial garbage, like the weather, or how their day is going or what they had for lunch, all completely pointless.

Maxwell is the master of this verbal white noise, even now he is prattling away about nothing, in abandon, just to that the silence can't creep back in. He is insatiable, regardless of how many times I threaten to kill him, he continues his mindless drawl completely unfazed. Winner is encouraging him of course, it seems that he is actually enjoying the pointless prattle.

Chang also has his moments, he will sit nodding and pondering quietly while Winner and Maxwell chew the proverbial fat. It is irritating. A complete waste of energy and time. Soon it is all far too much for me to tolerate and I leave.

I find sanctuary in the library as always. Winners estate house is enormous, uncomfortably so, merely a way to flaunt family's wealth. I do not come here to read, reading disinterests me. I come here to sit, to enjoy the quiet and contemplate the ways of the world.

People continue to both confuse and infuriate me. I am beginning to realise that I will never understand human behaviour. Social skills were not considered important enough to be adapted into my training, which I am extremely thankful for. The very notion of having to hold a pointless conversation or mastering the airs and graces of society spurs a desire to shoot myself in the face.

I hear him before I am dragged from my internal musings. I am always strangely amused at how well Barton can go undetected, even to me. Silence personified. He nods, acknowledging my presence with an impassivity that rivals my own and makes his way up to the second level. He selects a book from one of the many shelves and takes a seat, with a grace that only an acrobat can possess.

I watch him from the wing-backed chair I am reclining in. Like me he is different to the others. Barton can sit, for hours, unmoving, unspeaking and be completely at ease. No irritating twitching or impatient tapping or uncomfortable readjusting. Just still and silent. Completely calm.

There is an energy about him, an 'aura' as Winner would say, that I find settling and I am instantly at peace, grounded even. It is oddly fascinating to me.

His cool green eyes glance down at me through the bars of the banister, his expression impassive and unchanging. He blinks once before returning to the book on the desk. Nothing. No squirming or flinching in my gaze, just silence, stillness.

He understands that I am just observing, that I am not threatening him with my stare, I am merely watching, with no hidden motives or evil schemes, nothing intended to make him paranoid or uneasy in the way the others assume. Sometimes I believe that they fear me, and they should, but Barton is different, somewhat of an enigma that has me studying him with an intense curiosity.

The way he contains himself is awe inspiring. To assume that there is nothing going on behind those emerald eyes would be a foolish estimation. I once heard Maxwell jabbering on about how heartless and cold he considers Barton to be. I disagree, Maxwell is far too presumptuous to notice what lies beneath the surface.

In many ways Barton and I are the same, we were both trained to be detached, to supress all signs of emotion. He is far better at it that I; there are times when not even I can deduce what he is thinking. I have studied him endlessly and there is still a barrier that I cannot see through. With time I assume that I will learn his ways, his thoughts, the secrets that hide behind those endless green eyes of his, and maybe, eventually, he will grant me permission to become more than an observer.

Now however, we sit in the silence, completely comfortable with one another's presence. Yes, it is true, many people detest silence. I however, appear to like it just fine.


End file.
